


In All My Dreams I Drown

by niennavalier



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennavalier/pseuds/niennavalier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Buck, no.”</p>
<p>     “Aw, come on, Steve. Just this once?” </p>
<p>     “That’s what you say every time we’re at one of these things.”</p>
<p>     “Can you blame me? You still haven’t said yes, you know.” Then there was that smile, the charming, schoolboy grin as Bucky held out his hand, every fiber of his being so clearly longing to join in the excited hustle and bustle of couples twirling, laughing, across the wooden dance floor. But not more of a longing than there was for the man before him. “Please?” He quirked an eyebrow, raising his hand up just a little higher, trying (and succeeding) to be inviting. “For me?”</p>
<p>     Steve Rogers' dream may start out nicely, but it's not destined to stay that way. They never are, really. Not since everything that's happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In All My Dreams I Drown

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this comes from "In All My Dreams I Drown" from The Devil's Carnival. If you listen to the song, this fic doesn't really follow it, because it was prompted by a friend who wanted something based more on the title than the actual song, if that makes sense.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I had a slightly different plan for this originally, but Steve and Bucky wouldn't have it. So here we are.

     “Buck, no.”

     “Aw, come on, Steve. Just this once?”

     “That’s what you say every time we’re at one of these things.”

     “Can you blame me? You still haven’t said yes, you know.” Then there was that smile, the charming, schoolboy grin as Bucky held out his hand, every fiber of his being so clearly longing to join in the excited hustle and bustle of couples twirling, laughing, across the wooden dance floor. But not more of a longing than there was for the man before him. “Please?” He quirked an eyebrow, raising his hand up just a little higher, trying (and succeeding) to be inviting. “For me?”

     And the way the light in the hall shone on his features, golden and warm and casting shadows that only enhanced his strong profile, making his eyes glow like the first light peeking through the clouds on a cloudy day, how could he say no? He reached out, eyes focused on the outstretched hand…

     Then there was a jolt, and he stumbled. The dance hall was gone, its warm glow dying, replaced with the sterile white of the light reflected off the snow of the mountainside. Frigid air bit at his cheeks, howling against the peeled metal that once formed the side of the train.

     The train…Steve blinked because…the train, because…Bucky. He whipped his head up, hand instinctively flying out, the words “Grab my hand!” ripping automatically at his throat. And they were close…so close. Just a few more inches…just a few more inches and he could save him this time. Just a little more and they were almost there and this time – this time he wouldn’t fail his friend.

     But the train rumbled again, the bar snapping off, giving Steve just enough space to feel the brush of Bucky’s fingers along his – light and cold and _gone_ – before there were two twin screams echoing across the barren wasteland. A secondary jolt sent Steve falling to the side, stumbling, waiting for the unforgiving metal of the floor to stop his descent.

     Except it wasn’t the floor, and the impact came much earlier. The control panel of a ship caught his shoulder instead. The air was just as chill as it had been, though the whistling had abruptly disappeared. Miles of ice spread out in front of the windshield and…and there was a voice. “Steve? Steve, can you hear me?” Peggy. It was Peggy and…and she sounded scared…scared like the time when…

     The pieces all fit together in his head.

     But too late.

     There was a loud crash, metal tearing, glass shards screaming through the air as Steve felt himself thrown forward in the collision, out through the gaping hole in the front of the Valkyrie, ice cold waters sucking the breath from his lungs. And he sunk. Deeper and deeper and deeper until he could feel himself drowning, the waters growing murkier and murkier. He knew he should try to save himself, knew he should do something to avoid the debris floating in the water, but everything hurt too much and…

     He cracked an eye open. This scene, it felt familiar, too. These weren’t the Arctic waters where he was originally found – too warm, too dirty. There was…there was supposed to be a hand reaching down, dark, but not malicious, there to pull him out because he couldn’t do it himself, except, where was it?

     Where was it?

     _Steve…_ he could hear a voice. _Steve_ , more pained this time – a plea for help that he couldn’t answer. _Steve, where are you why didn’t you help me?_ Bucky – it was Bucky – his best friend who he couldn’t save, who he couldn’t protect, who he’d given up on even though they’d both sworn never to do that kind of thing to each other.

     _Steve_ …

     But he was drowning, he couldn’t help, he couldn’t do anything, he was useless…

     _Steve_ …?

     The water – it was filling him up he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe oh god what was happening?

      _Steve? Steve!_

     “Steve!”

     He jerked awake at that, sitting bolt upright, chest heaving with heavy pants. The water, the river, the drowning…it was all gone. All a dream. He was here. Here in Brooklyn, in his apartment, in his room, in his bed. It was okay, it was okay, it was okay…

     Bucky.

     Steve whipped around, because…because Bucky had to be safe, he had to be okay, he had to be he had to be _he had to be_. And he threw his arms around his best friend’s neck, pressing them close together, hiding his face in Bucky’s shoulder because “Buck, you’re safe and you’re here and…”

     “We’re both safe here, kid. We’re safe.” Bucky wrapped his own arms around Steve, grounding him, his anchor in the raging waters of guilt, fear, regret. Neither of them moved, just letting the moment recede again, back into the dark corners of their psyches, hoping for a long rest before it would again rear its ugly head. Nor did Bucky say a word, and for that, Steve was glad; he was tired of all the therapists, all the so-called professionals claiming that things would all be perfectly fine in the end, that things were okay, that the nightmares would go away like they’d never existed. None of them knew; how could any of them know? There weren’t a lot of people who Steve could trust to really understand, but Bucky was one of those people, always had been one of those people, always would be.

     In time, the moment did pass, the churning of Steve’s insides settling to something slower, more manageable, and they pulled apart, two pairs of blue eyes seeking each other out in the darkness. “Buck, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

     “Bullshit. You got nothing to apologize for Steve, okay? Not now, not then. You got that?” Bucky reached out, grabbing both of Steve’s hands in his, squeezing them lightly, his eyes soft in a way that didn’t seem to match the outwardly harsh words coming from his lips. How Bucky alone could manage such a feat, Steve had never understood.

     “But –“

     “But nothin’, Steve. You had no way of knowin’ what’d happened to me, right? And it’s not like anyone’s gonna blame you for having nightmares like any other person out there.”

     “I just – I don’t wanna make you have to take care of me like that anymore. Like when we were kids anymore.”

     “Cause you have nightmares? Steve,” he reached up with his right hand, cupping Steve’s cheek and forcing him to meet his eyes, “I loved that kid in Brooklyn same as I love you now. Nothin’s gonna change that. So what you have nightmares? You got me through mine and didn’t give up, even if I was more trouble than I was worth. So why’d you expect me to give up on you? The two of us, ‘til the end of the line, right?”

     Steve chuckled, ignoring the blurriness in his vision. The number of times Bucky had come back with that line, neither of them really knew anymore. “You’re right, Buck. You got me.”

     “I know,” Bucky grinned back ever-so-slightly, before pulling his partner into another hug, relaxing himself at feeling the tension drain from Steve’s shoulders. “And I’ve always got you, Rogers. Don’t you ever go forgetting that again.”


End file.
